


Roses in Stained Glass

by ProwlingThunder



Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Curious Foxes, F/M, Family Reunion, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1537028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/ProwlingThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his mother married Kazuya, Kurama became-- in a measure-- part of the Hatanaka family. What he didn't know was that the Hatanaka were part of a larger, branching Clan. Or that that Clan gets into as much trouble as Yusuke.</p><p>OR</p><p>Kurama and Seiji save the world. Their little part of it, at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses in Stained Glass

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know exactly where this is going, but I can't wait to find out.

In retrospect, Kurama had anticipated a family reunion, of a sort. Kazuya had said he had a large family, though he didn't speak of them often. There was a winter gathering, which had been skipped the first year because of his newly-married status, and because Shuichi-- and Kurama-- had school to think about.

 

Though Kurama had been busy in other pursuits.

 

The next few years everyone had been otherwise occupied as well. They hadn't managed to go.

 

Still, he had expected a Hatanaka family reunion. He hadn't actually expected the family to be flown to the north, into the depths of Miyagi. He hadn't expected Sendai. He certainly hadn't expected the snaking, winding path to the _family compound_ , or the sentries at the gates.

 

His father greeted both of them by name, and asked about the clan head. Kurama listened, while his mother enjoyed the scenery. It was spring, and the cherry trees were in full bloom. Shuichi was waiting patiently by his father's side, which was a little surprising, but after a moment the spell broke, because one of the sentries broke away from the conversation and greeted him, and Shuichi lit up.

 

“Shuichi-kun! You're getting bigger!”

 

Kurama stepped on the feeling of walking into a trap. The whole place prickled with spiritual energy, though he could feel soft ribbons of demonic power flowing, fluctuating in time with the breeze. Bubbles of purifying energy flickered, too, but contained; he could feel half a dozen on the surrounding fence, on the gate itself, but not on the overhead bar.

 

Demons could pass freely, in and out this main gate. Nothing would stop them unless the gate itself was closed.

 

_And all inside would be trapped inside._

 

Beside him, his mother Shiori watched her husband and step-son, not the least bit aware of anything under the scenes.

 

Another moment longer, and all pretense of formalities dissolved. Kazuya and Shuichi brought the two guards over to them, introducing them. Kurama smiled, soft and polite. They felt human. But they moved lithe and careful, and the younger of the two carried a sword on his hip. The elder had no visible weapons, but then-- neither did Kurama.

 

Not anymore.

 

_Warriors, youkai, priest wards.. Something tells me Koenma either doesn't know this place exists, or it's been a bane to many, many Detectives through the years._ Probably the second. He couldn't fathom there was a place like this that Koenma  _didn't_ know about. Though... maybe. Kurama hadn't felt it until he was on the proverbial doorstep.

 

Thirty minutes later, he was actually crossing that doorstep. He felt the wards test and flux as he passed them, spiritual pressure shifting, bowing outward to let him pass. It raised his hackles. Wards simply didn't _act_ like that!

 

Wind caught nearby bamboo chimes as Kazuya lead them on the meandering path further into the compound. Kurama felt pure, human energies along the path, breaking off from stone walk at odd angles. It felt like a maze. But up ahead, a strong, inhuman energy bloomed, off to the right.

 

The stone walk split.

 

Kazuya went left. Shiori went left. Shuichi went left. Kurama...

 

Stopped. Reached out with his youkai, through the trees, the cobblestones, following nature's energies through root-work and leaves. Brushed against the foreign energy, feeling it flex and push against his own, feeling it's surprise, as it seemed to realize what it was touching.

 

_Hello there, little one._ Kurama smiled softly, curling his youkai into a feeling of harmlessness. Though anybody who truly believed it was either young, or foolish, or both.

 

The energy jerked away, like a startled kit, and vanished in a blink, leaving Kurama floundering a bit. He recoiled his youkai and moved to follow his family up the left path, considering the feeling as he walked.

 

Five minutes in, and the whole path was lined with sun-catchers. The shapes varied, as did the colors; dragons were prevalent, holding incandescent stones. There were some wolves, made of plate glass. Butterflies, all done in wire or wood hoops. Tigers, done with poured glass, smaller shapes hanging from their feet and tails like children's mobiles. Several foxes cut from metal, with multicolored gems inserted.

 

More than anything, there was the clan's  _kamon._ One he'd seen on the sentries, on the gates. One he knew from history books, though not just from there. He had been  _busy_ , centuries ago. But of course trinkets with one mark were typically worth more than another. This family's most precious things had always been people. People, and weapons. And while Youko Kurama'd had little use for swords and daggers,  _people_ could be fun.

 

Though when Hoshi-hime mentioned a fox in her bed, he'd not expected the family to put up a shrine and start doling out  _Inari-zushi_ .

 

Raizen hadn't been the first demon to end up in a human's bed, not by a long shot. Though he'd been the first  _Mazoku_ that Kurama had ever heard about. Yusuke was the second. But then, Mazoku were few and far between, and considering their diet, that was hardly a surprise. Since the separation of the Makai from the Ningenkai, humans had been scarce in the Makai. They would doubtlessly have been bred like cattle and slaughtered much the same.

 

And sleeping with one's dinner was universally perverse.

 

_Thank Inari I was not Mazoku._ Kurama mused, stepping past an unfamiliar green and yellow-gold shape in a hoop. Like a lighting bolt, perhaps. Beyond that last sun-catcher, the treeline broke into a courtyard and a wooden veranda, stretching far in either direction. Kurama could see the corners, but distantly; it was a  _big_ house.  _Life would have been far less entertaining if I were_ . 

 

Not that it was not entertaining  _now_ , he decided, taking in the feel of invisible wards along the facing wall. They ran down to the veranda and spilled off it, trickling into grass and stone like particularly invasive vines. He could feel them brush against his own energies, though they did not burn or even seem to register his approach in any way. It was... unusual. Like the wards on the fence.

 

Kurama had been around a long time, but this...

 

He ruthlessly stomped on the urge to vacate the premises in a hurry, spurned by simple weirdness. He would not leave his mother, and he was _curious_ , besides. _Whoever can make such wards isn't to be trifled with lightly_ , he decided, stepping up with his family to slip off his shoes. Paper slid open before he could close the last few feet, revealing a young woman not much older than himself. Four, maybe five years, with dark hair pulled up and an antique fashioned kimono pulled over a heavily pregnant belly. Behind her stood a businessman, about the same age, but graying a little at the temples.

 

They both looked surprised to see them here.

 

The sheer amount of _stress_ rolling off them made him sneeze.

 

The woman's expression flickered in surprise, and she hid her face behind her fingers. Kurama heard her giggle anyway. He flushed, embarrassed, and looked away.

 

Had to pause, and really _look_ , because the stone walk continued along the veranda and then split again. One of the paths turned the corner of the house, presumably to ring it. The other...

 

_Bright_ was the only way to describe the newcomer. Kurama had thought of Yukina as bright, with her pale hair and dragon-bright eyes, and  _sunlight on glacial-ice_ youkai. But she was a pale shadow in comparison, bright like the way the moon was bright, instead of being the sun.

 

This man was the Sun. Kurama could feel it. Plants leaned his way like they stretched for morning light, and his spirit energy  _glowed_ . It felt pleasant, like the first day of spring, with the warm sun streaming down and a cool breeze kissing his skin. And he looked it, with spun golden hair and luminescent skin.

 

He had never seen a human being look so  _pretty_ .

 

It was ridiculous.

 

“You must be here to meet with Date-dono.” Kurama drug his attention away from the blond at the sound of a woman's voice. The pregnant woman had stopped giggling, her right hand falling to rest on her swollen belly gingerly. The other rested on the nearest post. He was less certain the post was simply there for support, but the man's-- husband's?-- hand stayed firmly on the small of her back.

 

Kurama watched Kazuya smile, faint and measured, and spread his fingers in the universal signal of one who was unarmed. With Kazuya, Kurama knew it to be true. His step-father was no warrior. His weapon was nothing his own mortal form could  _force_ . Which made him, Kurama was pleased to admit, far more dangerous. “We are, Sasaki-san. Does Date-dono have time for company?”

 

“I'm afraid my brother is out taking a walk right now.”

 

Kurama narrowed his attention on her face, considering those words and the implications behind them. There were many, both in the words themselves and the way she threaded them together, the way she pronounced them.

 

He didn't doubt that _Date-dono_ was her brother. Though it meant the Lordling was likely young, not yet experienced, and easily malleable as a result. Even if the man was ten years her senior, he would have still been so. There was a certain amount of credit that could be given to youths, but being savvy enough to maneuver in political waters of a large, human family?

 

Kurama wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. Demonic politics were easy to deal with; if _politics_ were the issue, grab Yusuke and throw him at it. The Makai Tournament was proof enough of that. Throw Yusuke at human politics, and they would almost certainly _eat him alive_.

 

Though he had seen simple, human naivety smother murderous, backstabbing tendencies with no trouble at all. Perhaps Date-dono being young was a good thing after all...

 

“I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Sasaki-san continued, smiling at them softly. It was an unhidden smile, warm and radiant all on it's own. “I'm sure he will be back soon. You can wait with us, if you want to, or you can come back later...”

 

“That wont be necessary.”

 

It felt like falling in a thawing stream. The sudden shock of ice and freezing water on unprotected skin, knocking precious air from fragile lungs, and the daunting, terrifying awareness that winter chill leached heat like orchids leached nutrition from their hosts.

 

It was... unpleasant.

 

At least he did _not_ turn and bite the offender. Though he wanted to, like any other fox backed into a corner.

 

Instead he turned, shifting his weight to slide himself directly between his mother and the-- and the Sun?

 

He hadn't felt the stranger's approach, for all that his energies were impossible to miss. Nor had he heard his footsteps; which was strange, because few humans were light-footed enough that Kurama's sharp hearing did not catch their coming.

 

But now that he was here, he could hear his very heartbeat, and the draw of air in to his lungs. He could nearly  _taste_ the power the man radiated, not that much older than himself, and he carried himself with a strength and confidence that spoke of his certainty in his own abilities. And this close, Kurama could see the gleam and color in his eyes as they roved over the assembly; which were... violet. 

 

Not brown, or green, or blue, but violet.

 

Inhuman, demon-bright... violet.

 

Kazuya bowed, and Shiori and Shuichi followed suit. Kurama's back refused to bend. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the sister incline her head. “Brother. How was your walk?”

 

“Refreshing,” Date-dono told her, his tone soft and familiar, though his voice was strong, warm silk cloth over a steel blade. “Perhaps you will be able to join me next time.”  
  
“If the pups don't den me before that, then maybe.” Sasaki-san allowed. Then she motioned to Kazuya as he stood again. “They have come to visit you, if you have time.”

 

The Lordling turned to the veranda and slipped his zori off, stepping up onto the wood. “I do. Would you prepare tea for my guests before you and Shirou head home?” The sister nodded, just a tip of her head, and then she and her partner turned, heading back inside the house to complete the requested task.

 

Lord Date himself then turned back to them. For a long moment, he didn't say anything, and then his expression seemed to... pull, a little. He looked painfully tense to Kurama's trained gaze. “Hatanaka-san. It has been a very long time.”

 

“You've grown up, Seiji. Shukijo would be proud of you.”

 

The gates were open, the sun was bright, and every tree and blade of grass was Kurama's to command.

 

But it was already too late to dream of running.


End file.
